Sex Appeal
by LadyComplainer
Summary: Dean/New Girl  Dean gets rescued by a hottie named Jenna. Together they go up again a demon called "Mortuus". He has the power to make your sexual desires from pleasure to deathly good.
1. Chapter 1

"Thank you for saving my life," Dean said as he breathed heavily. "I owe you one." He looked down at the gorgeous girl in front of him. Though he was trying to be flirty, she took it literally.

"Don't worry, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I can think of a way or two that you can pay me back," she smiled as she said this.

The dead vampire's fingers moved. A loud shot went off again.

"I think he's dead," Dean said. She just laughed.

"You can never be too sure," she smirked. She just liked holding her shotgun. The shotgun wasn't her favorite though. It was the sword on her spine. She shivered at the thought of it. The cool metal of the long sword in the not nearly covered enough sword.

"Jenna, I really _do_ owe you," Dean said again. Jenna squatted down by the vampire's head and sprayed gas on it.

"Got a light?" Jenna asked with her hand out not looking at the tall very sexy man standing above and behind her. Dean fumbled. As he looked down at the woman who saved his life, he noticed not just the sword or the rose tattoo up her spine, but the scars along her sides. He wasn't checking this out intentionally. He just… happened to have wondering eyes.

With the body of the vampire on fire, they left walking to the car. Jenna had drove, Dean had gotten kidnapped so Dean was going with the strange, beautiful girl willing or… willing.

Half-hour later, they didn't stop at his hotel but at a bar called, "Fantasy". It was a small bar with more booths than tables. Jenna walked in and went straight to the bar. A guy dressed in all leather was the bartender.

"Jenna!" The leather-wearing bartender yelled in excitement.

"Steven!" Jenna yelled back. "Steve, this is Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, meet Steven, the greatest bartender you'll ever meet. He makes the best everything!"

"Open bar?" Dean asked as he took the leather-gloved hand in his. Steven smiled as he shook his hand.

"Oh, sexy man, I will make anything you like," Steven played. Dean opened his mouth but no words came out. Jenna just started laughing. Dean looked at the woman who saved him. She was wearing a black tank and jean shorts. He couldn't tell earlier what she was wearing. Her jet-black hair didn't match her dark green eyes. She was even more beautiful than he had thought.

Her smile put a smile on Dean's face. He hadn't smiled like this since the last time he saw his brother. The thought of his brother suddenly put a downer on the nice moment. Jenna saw the mood change in not just Dean's facial expression, but also his body language.

"What's wrong?" Jenna's question was full of concern.

"Nothing," Dean said plainly.

"Oh, honey, don't you know not to lie to a psychic?" Steven said with a half sarcastic smirk.

"Psychic?" Dean asked.

"Witch, actually, but I only study the," she thought a moment, "'seeing' part of it."

Dean slowly backed away from the beautiful witch. "Why would say this aloud?" They were in a small bar and it was crowded with people. It was silent though.

"Because you are in a bar full of psychics, full witches, and hunters." Jenna's response was in a way that said more of a "duh didn't you know" way. Dean looked around and when he did, everyone was talking and doing their own thing.

It suddenly dawned on him how she knew exactly where he was at and how she knew he had a gun about 100 yards away that had gotten knocked out his hand. She knew his name. Her's had come out the vampire's mouth but very softly.

For some odd reason, though, Dean knew he could trust her, but knowing she was a witch… was the trust real?

"Yes, Dean, its real." Jenna answered as though to read his mind. "I don't practice magic. I just have a gift. My mother was a witch and my father was a hunter. A vampire killed my twin sister. No, not turned. She was tortured, raped, and then sucked dry in the nonpleasurable way."

Dean was shocked by the facts that were crawling out of her mouth. "I'm sorry." Her dark green eyes stared into his sad hazel eyes.

"Steven, I think we're gonna need more than the usual amount of shots tonight," Jenna said as she hopped off her chair. She was only 5 feet 4 inches, which was shorter than what Dean was usually attracted to. For some reason, he wanted to follow her.

"You can stay here if you want," Jenna said.

"Quit doing that!" Dean replied a little annoyed.

"Sorry, honey, but you'll have to get used to it. I can help with it if you want though. I have a potion that will make it so none of the other psychics can read your mind."

"Sounds good," Dean said. He followed the dark haired beauty up a set of stairs in the back of the bar by the bathrooms. He watched as she walked hard up the stairs. Her perfectly round ass swayed back and forth. He could tell that it wasn't forced, just natural. He was starting to enjoy himself.

"You might want to keep those thoughts to yourself, Dean Winchester," Jenna said quietly. Dean felt his face get hot with embarrassment. "Don't be embarrassed. I like it, but you defiantly want to keep them to yourself till we can get to know each other better."

It was odd. As they reached the top of the stairs, Jenna started to take off her clothes. First, her oversized leather jacket. Next, her shirt. She was wearing a black laced bra.

"I thought you said we should get to know each other first," Dean teased. Jenna turned around as she did she end up smack against him because he was walking so close.

"I did and we will. I just need to change into something more comfortable." Jenna walked to her bed and sat down. Dean found a chair opposite her bed. He tried not to watch as she took off her shorts, but… his eyes just couldn't stop staring at the tattoo and scars on her back.

"They're just scared from a _very_ long story," Jenna answered.

"Where's that potion?" Dean asked anxiously.

"Second drawer to the left in the dresser," Jenna replied. Dean got up from his seat but couldn't keep his eyes off her. He didn't know or understand why but he felt like he knew her from somewhere.

"What's it gonna taste like?" Dean wondered aloud.

"Whiskey," Jenna said plainly. "Very strong whiskey." Dean coughed as he downed it.

"I take it you knew I was gonna need this or something." As Dean turned around, Jenna was zipping up her knee high, black boots. For a moment, all Dean wanted to do was… _very_ naughty things to her.

"Are you ready to drink, cowboy?" Jenna asked. Dean smirked.

"Can't you read my mind?" Dean's smile grew bigger as she walked ever so desirably towards him.

"Can you read mine?" Jenna asked. Her body was nearly pressing against his. She was on her tippy toes just to get close enough to his face where their lips would barely touch.

"I'd like to," Dean confessed. Jenna smiled. Their lips barely touch as she replied, "Maybe you will."


	2. Chapter 2

An hour later, both Jenna and Dean were more than drunk. They were riding the bull, dancing, singing bad country songs, and talking about everything. In less than six hours of being with her, Dean knew everything about her. He knew about her parents' death, her twin sister's capture, the first time she realized who she was, and the first time she knew what to do with it. Jenna learned the same thing. She learned about Dean's past; his father's death, his brother taking off for a while, Lisa, and everything there was to know about his car. She was impressed by how comfortable he felt telling her about Lisa. Lisa after all _was_ his first love… other than his Impala of course.

"… Then Sammy passed out and I had to drag his ass back to the hotel," Dean was drunk and laughing as he finished his story.

"All right, baby, let's get you to bed," Jenna said as she noticed Dean stumbling towards her. Dean smiled at the words. "No, no, not _that_ bed." Jenna chuckled.

"Come on, Jenna, you said I could read your mind later," Dean smiled. Jenna just shook her head and put her arm around his waist to help him back up to her room upstairs.

Helping him comfortable wasn't the hard part about getting him upstairs. It was the "what he wanted to cuddle with" part. Or rather _whom_.

"Please don't leave," Dean whispered as he watched Jenna walk towards the door. Jenna, feeling sorry for him, turned around and got comfortable in his strong arms. Dean took in the smell of cucumber melon body wash and feel of a woman's body against his. It had been years since he had felt like this. His left arm hugged Jenna's body to his. No struggling or weirdness. She felt comfortable in his arms.

The next morning, Dean woke up to an empty bed. He remembered everything about the night before. He looked around the room, and then saw her. She was wearing a pink see through robe. Black laced lingerie hugged her body. It was a good thing she couldn't read his mind but unfortunately she could see the excitement under the sheets.

"Hello to you to," Jenna laughed without looking up from her coffee. "Want some?" The question was open. Before Dean could say another word, Jenna was already walking over with a cup of coffee for him. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Right," Dean sipped his coffee. It wasn't hot but it wasn't cold either. It was nice and warm. Perfect temperature.

"Don't worry about your brother either," Jenna said out of the blue. "He is fine and will be fine until you see him."

"I didn't say…" Dean was confused.

"I asked the cards." Jenna answered. She glanced at the table. Dean walked over and sure enough there were tarot cards on it.

"Didn't you read that I don't like witches?" Dean asked knowing the answer. It was blunt and harsh of him to say first thing in the morning, but it just seemed okay to say.

"Yes," Jenna nodded. "Would you rather I have left you alone?"

"No." Dean didn't hesitate.

"You and I are gonna need each other with what's to come," Jenna said. She pointed at the card on the table that was Death. "There is something coming and its not good. Death means change, ya know."

Dean slowly nodded then looked down at her with a stern look. "What's to come?"

"Mortuus."

"Mortuus?" Dean asked. He thought about the name. Why did it seem so damn familiar? "Mortuus means death in Latin, correct?"

"Yes. It is a powerful demon. Its 'special talent' is to turn your most wanted sexual desire against you with a single touch. Problem is that I don't know if Mortuus is female or male. It's in human form most of the time but when it gets hungry…" She was quiet.

"So you're telling me with the touch of the demon, you and I could have sex and kill each other?" Dean asked. He was starting to like the "having sex part".

"It could touch you and if your sexual desire is with me, then it will make it so you kill me. If you like pain, then it will turn the pain on you." She answered.

"So, how do we kill it?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. I haven't seen anything like this before."

"Well, we could just have sex and then the desire would be gone," Dean suggested, half kidding.

"I'm going to shower now," Jenna didn't want to say anything to the comment. She hadn't been with a man in a _very_ long time. If it were up to her, she would have had sex with him the moment she laid eyes on him. His body to her was beautiful; muscular without being too muscular, not too skinny but not fat either, and his eyes and lips were the most desire part of his body. His eyes were sucking her into a world that she could stay in forever. His lips looked like they would be more than kissable. All she wanted to do was tell him come join her in the shower. After all, they would get sticky if they had sex anyways… Right?


	3. Chapter 3

Jenna and Dean drove to his hotel room and picked up his Impala. Dean took one last look at Jenna before he put his mind on Hunt Mode. She was wearing a full on black outfit that hugged her body; black leather jacket over her black tank and black jeans tucked in knee boots. She didn't wear make-up, but she didn't need to either. Her eyelashes were dark and long and made her dark green eyes pop. Her lips were wearing strawberry flavored lip-gloss. He could smell the strawberries from where he was standing.

"I have my dad's journal in here locked up," Dean said. He was ready to start hunting.

"With a protection symbol on the box right?" Jenna asked, and then regretted it. It was a stupid question since they had talked about it last night. Dean nodded.

"Thanks for not taking advantage of me," Dean said. Jenna was the one that thought wrong on this one.

"Well, I wasn't _that_ drunk," she teased. Dean smiled but shook his head.

"No, I mean, you're a witch, right? I hate witches but for some reason I know I can trust you," Dean said. Jenna felt embarrassed. Her lightly tanned skin turned pink. "Don't be embarrassed, Jenna."

For next thirty minutes, Dean and Jenna just sat across from each other staring with an occasional glance down at the page in Dean's father's journal that had only one note about Mortuus.

"So to conjure him, you have to be in a state of absolute desire," Jenna read aloud for the third time. Dean had only repeated five more times of the same thing. "Then, read the words aloud.

"We need a plan," Dean said for the billionth time.

"Or we look for a couple already in desire," Jenna replied. They looked at each other for a long time again.

"What if _we_ were the couple in absolute desire and had back-up to capture and kill him before he touched us?" Dean asked. This time it was the first time for the idea to be said aloud.

"Wow!" Jenna suddenly stood up. Dean stood up too. She looked up into his eyes. Right then, she _did_ feel desire. Dean took a step forward that made Jenna take three steps back.

"I'm sorry. I was out of line to suggest something I thought you were thinking too," Dean admitted.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't," Jenna admitted. "I think I'm gonna go ahead and go." She stood up and quickly walked to the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she stopped. His big hand lay loosely on her shoulder. Slowly she turned. His big dark eyes stared down into hers. In half a second, she could let herself go and kiss him, but she didn't.

"Don't go," Dean said. It wasn't an order or demand or anything like that. It was a plea. It was desire. Her desire for his touch and his passion was growing by the second.

"Why?" It was a simple question.

"Because…" Dean leaned down to the short dark angel. Her lips were soft and moist as he kissed her passionately. Their tongues battled in each other's mouths.

Their breathing became hard and fast as they explored each other's bodies over the clothes with their hands. Hands running from cheek to butt and back up again. Jenna's toes were starting to hurt and Dean must have felt the tension in her back so he picked her up. Instantly her short legs wrapped around his muscular body.


End file.
